Behind The Curtain
by The Sisters Williams
Summary: A look into the strong bond between Ukraine and Russia after the October Revolution, in both good times and bad.


Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia

_Hi, anyone who takes the time to read this! I've decided to start my first multichaptered fic; however, I am kind of notorious for starting and not fininshing. I really don't want to do this here. Just in case, I've tried to make each chapter work as a standalone story as well. Don't expect rapid updates, but I'll do my best to not take forever. _

_I'm a bit nervous about writing for this, and I know it comes off a little rushed, but I think it'll improve. _

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Ivan sat on his bed, trembling. In all of his years as a nation he had never felt so uncertain, or so ill. The frigid March wind blew snow and ice outside, nearly blocking the night view from his large bedroom window in its ferocity. It battered the side of the building, drowning every other sound out in unrelenting white noise.

_Dead...Nicholas is dead_. The mantra flowed through Ivan's mind repeatedly, denying him even a moment's peace. What was he to do with no leader? No successor? Russia, the largest nation in the world, now had no one to run it but himself.

The rebellion that took the life of his dear boss (_friend, _Ivan now felt) was disorganized and brutal. Ivan knew that Nicholas, though sometimes shortsighted and ill-equipped for the job, was not an evil man. He certainly didn't deserve to be murdered by such cold-blooded assassins. Not even true Russians. And the family, murdered as well! The Tsarina, the darling Grand Duchesses, little Alexei...all had perished. He could feel a piece of himself missing; he felt as though his heart had died along with the last true leaders of Russia.

All of this talk of revolution had stirred up his people but what for, Ivan wasn't sure. He knew change was on the way unlike any the nation had ever seen before. However, just who or what would take control, he was unsure. Whether this be change for the better or worse, he was unsure.

Ivan had never felt so alone.

A gentle knock sounded, barely audible over the harsh blowing of the winter winds. Ivan ignored it, certain that his caller was no one more than another unwanted adviser. Or perhaps a Bolshevik member, wishing to discuss plans for the future. Perhaps it was just a figment of his imagination. He had been feeling so _off_ lately...

Despite his wishes, the door creaked open. Soft footsteps followed, padding across the wooden boards.

Frustrated and wanting time to feel his loss, Ivan turned to tell whoever it was to leave quickly or face his mounting wrath. He was not above taking out his anger and hurt on whoever was trespassing.

"Hello, Brother," Ukraine said shyly. The harsh words Ivan had nearly uttered froze on his tongue.

She seemed nervous, unsure of whether she was really welcome. The woman hadn't seen her brother since the start of the Great War, and he had not been in the best of spirits then. She knew his people were revolting; even then, it was obvious the stress and worry he carried in his broad shoulders. Would he shut her out, as Katyusha knew he had Nataliya and the Baltic nations?

Ivan stared, taking her in. His most peaceful memories always held his sister Ukraine within them. No one had ever treated him more kindly or loved him as much as his dear sister. He smiled, a short, wan smile, for the first time in he couldn't remember how long, and patted beside him on the bed. She smiled wider and took the seat before drawing the grieving nation into a long, tight embrace that lasted for what seemed like an hour.

Here, in his sister's arms, Ivan released his pain and fear, sobbing into the embrace. Katyusha's answer was to just hold him tighter, occasionally kissing the top of his head and whispering words of comfort.

Eventually, Ivan broke away. "Katyusha...what do I do?" He knew she wouldn't be able to give him advice, but it made him feel better to ask and admit his uncertainty. "My country is in tatters; it's worse off than it has ever been. My people don't deserve this," he choked out, a bit embarrassed by his emotional display. "I've got many revolutionaries after me, and no one seems to want the same thing. I'm being pulled in so many directions, I feel as though I'm going to tear apart!" With that, a fresh wave of emotion took over the large nation.

Ukraine ached at the sight of her brother. He was not a man easily brought down, and it hurt more than she could express to see the usually jovial nation in such despair. She placed her hand against his cheek, tracing the path of a tear stain with her finger lightly before speaking. "Ivan, I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know what to do here; all I know is that there is great change ahead. Whether it is change for the better or change for the worse, I cannot tell you."

The howling wind outside began to ease just as suddenly as it had started earlier in the day. The Russian could hear the single chime of the grandfather clock in the next room signalling some half hour. He didn't know which.

"All I can do is promise you I will never leave you alone." Ivan looked up at this promise, the ghost of a second smile flickering across his face. "No matter what, my brother, I will be there with you." At this, Katyusha pressed her lips to his forehead and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Katyusha..." Ivan suddenly hugged his sister, causing her to giggle shyly. "Thank you so much. I will be okay as long as we are together, _da_? You are the greatest sister I could hope for!" Though he was still uncertain about the future, knowing he had support from someone, especially someone so important to him, meant more than anything. Finally, he felt some peace. And with peace, he finally felt the fatigue he had been carrying for too long.

"We'll stick together, dear Ivan," the Ukrainian whispered as his weary eyelids threatened to close. "You'll be great, I'm sure of it." The combination of the sweet words and the Russian storm created a perfect lullaby, as the Russian drifted off to sleep, the first in days. She gazed at her little brother, who looked so young at that moment. The Ukrainian recalled times long ago, when she was always able to be there for her family. At least she was able to be there for Ivan tonight. Katyusha hoped his sleep would be a perfect slumber, filled with thoughts of family and the sunflowers Ivan loved so much.

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_Thanks for reading!_


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